I haven't quite figured out what I was thinking in that moment because on the whole, for what I would consider the entirety of my life, I hated gym. I was a pansy at the flexed arm hang. I never learned how to do a cart wheel. I scheduled band lessons right in the middle of swimming days so it "wouldn't make sense for me to get in the water..." I skipped nearly three weeks of first hour during the basketball unit in 9th grade claiming I had monthly cramps. Monthly, as in three-fourths of the month-ly.
To be fair, there were some high points to gym though. Like every halloween when our elementary gym was turned into a big maze made out of tumbling mats standing on their ends. That was epic. Or when I got first place in the frisbee throw in our 3rd grade olympics. Or when I won the entire bracket of foosball with the future varsity soccer captain as my partner. Or when we had free time in swimming and I made up synchronized swim routines with my friend Jenny. That basically sums up my athletic life story.
Anyway, the email came, I signed my pregnant self up, with one-year-old in tow, and Friday was our first day. And I realized my goal was to make sure this was an awesome experience for kids, and to pull from my incredible repertoire of camp games. And to get to use my new parachute.
So we showed up on Friday, and it was a blast. I have the little kids, and it's awesome. After about 45 minutes of organized activities a little girl asked if we could play princesses and a boy said he wanted to play skywalkers and so we ran all over the field and played princesses finding safety in the soccer nets from the shooting skywalkers.
That's my kind of gym class.
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